


Don't Judge a Cake By Its Icing

by soniabigcheese



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soniabigcheese/pseuds/soniabigcheese
Summary: The last in the 'Tea with ...' series





	Don't Judge a Cake By Its Icing

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it's a bit short. Virgil is one tough nut to crack.  
> I haven't included Kayo because I didn't think that 'afternoon tea' would be her 'thing'

The last in the ‘Tea with’ series.  
It’s Virgil’s turn. And trust me, this man is a tough cookie to write about.

Oh and sorry that it’s a bit short.

The rescue had been a long and tough one. It was also one that he and Lady Penelope had worked together with instead of one of his brothers, and he marvelled at the calm and unruffled way that she’d dealt with everything. He was even more so impressed at just how quickly she could diffuse a situation, yet at the same time use her social standing to get this particular antagonist to back down.

He checked the fuel tanks … Thunderbird Two was one heck of a gas guzzler … and noted that he’d enough fuel to get home safely … and then some. Otherwise he’d be flying on fumes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her fishing in her deceptively small handbag for a travel sized make up kit.

Wow.

After slicking on a layer of lipstick and quickly refreshing her foundation, she turned to Virgil with a smile.

“You couldn’t do me a little favour could you?”

He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed hard. As much as he wanted to refuse her request, something inside of him just couldn’t bear to say no. He was … after all … a gentleman whose hide his grandma would have if he was ever disrespectful towards any woman.

Sighing, he adjusted his butt in the seat.

“Okay.”  
“Well … since Parker is busy elsewhere … “ she began, “… and I do seem to have a pressing engagement … as well as feeling a little hungry…”

Okay … here it comes …the dreaded ‘afternoon tea at the Ritz’. He inwardly cringed at the whole idea.

She had been bugging him for ages, and there’d never been a suitable time. What with all the rescues that had been happening. He’d never had a proper rest. And the thoughts of having to hold those tiny little delicate china cups … and nibble on crust-less triangular shaped cucumber sandwiches that made him burp all the time …

Yeah, the cakes did look nice, he had to admit that. But so small. One bite and they’d be gone. He’d seen and heard about them. Nah. Afternoon tea just wasn’t for him. He liked his meals to be hearty and wholesome.

“I’m good,” he replied and nodded towards the cool box in the corner.

His traitorous stomach growled loudly.

“Grandma packed it.”

Penny un-clipped her seat belt and went to investigate. On opening the lid, the distinctive smell of sardines hit her nose and she pulled out a clear container that had a rather battered looking ‘cake’. It was lopsided and burned along one edge. The icing looked as though it had been applied with a trowel.

“I can see that,” she remarked rather dryly.

Virgil knew that grandma was listening in so he chose not to criticize her cooking skills. Silently, he vowed to ditch the food at the first opportunity.

“Uh yeah.”

She replaced the lid and sat back down, opening her comm-pact.

“I’ve put the co-ordinates in of my destination. I hope you don’t mind.”

He was surprised that it wasn’t London, but a small town not so far away. He looked at her pointedly. She shrugged.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’m judging a baking contest.” she smiled knowingly at him, “you’re welcome to join in with the tasting … but …”

She looked out of the window to hide her sneaky smile.

“… if you don’t want to taste all the beautifully hand made cakes … and prefer your grandmother’s cooking… well … who am I to stop you?”

She turned to look at him, as his stomach gave out another growl. His hands squeezed at the steering wheel. 

Oh gosh. This was sooo tempting.

“And they serve nice big mugs of tea, coffee, juices, hot chocolate.”

Dammit.

“Plus … so I’ve been informed … they’re a judge short…. if you’re up to the challenge that is.”

He quickly patched through to Thunderbird 5 and Tracy Island.

“I’m gonna be a bit late home.”


End file.
